


Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

by heybabydoll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Hogwarts Founders Era, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18865702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heybabydoll/pseuds/heybabydoll
Summary: No one ever really knew the history behind the Hogwarts School motto, but a surprising group of students will discover the true meaning. Together, only they can stop the curse from taking over Hogwarts, and the rest of wizarding life as they know it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took a long hiatus from writing, but I’m back now. I recently visited a Harry Potter World at Universal Studios and that reignited my love for this fandom. I think the last time I ever wrote something was back in 2013, or maybe even before then, so that’s about six years ago! I also wrote something similar to this, but I deleted it for it was absolutely horrible. I’m older, much more well-read and experienced than I was in the past. I hope this makes up for it.

**July 1998**

For the umpteenth time, an eighteen-year-old Hermione Granger slammed her newest edition of Hogwarts: A History shut with a huff. She thought that the book would have more information about how the castle was built, but no. She and a few choice others were assigned to restore the castle walls and wards. Out of the last ten editions she read, not one shred of knowledge was shed light on the information she sought after.

“Get some sleep. You’ll feel better when you look at the book with fresh eyes,” a groggy Ginny Weasley advised.

Hermione attempted to reach for the book again, but the redhead yanked it out of her reach. “But…” Hermione started.

“You need rest. This book isn’t going anywhere,” her redheaded friend said as she locked the book away in her trunk. “You haven’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours. We’re spending the whole summer and the rest of the school year to help rebuild the castle. McGonagall has invited all the students and some people from the ministry to help restore. You can afford to get some sleep,” Ginny argued her point with her hands on her hips.

Hermione huffed as she tried to pry open her friend’s trunk with a variety of spells but to no avail. Then, the brunette glared daggers towards her friend as she began to frizz more with her temper. Ginny burst into laughter as she threw a pillow at her roommate.

“‘Mione! We’re not dealing with the Dark Lord anymore. We’re not dealing with an impending doom anymore. You can _relax_ ,” Ginny tried her best to encourage her friend.

Hermione plopped herself down on her bed and sighed. She stared up at the ceiling and willed herself not to cry.

“I’m sorry, Ginny. I’ve been a bit emotional lately since I got back from the muggle world this morning,” she confessed. “My gran died last week and it got me thinking that life was too short to waste time.”

Hermione changed into her favorite silk nightie, pulled her hair to one side, and fingered the pendant of her necklace that belonged to her grandmother. It was an unconscious habit that she had developed when she was stressed, as she hoped to gain the guidance of the wise woman who gave it to her.

In addition to losing her parents after she obliviated them, she also lost her grandmother. Gran had been Hermione’s sitter when she was a young child and both of her parents were at work. It was Gran who introduced Hermione to her love of books. Hermione knew she would cherish her grandmother’s love for the rest of her life. She could clearly remember the moment when her grandmother placed this treasure in her palms. Tears threatened to fall as her mind wandered down memory lane.

The silver necklace had a heart pendant with an ‘R’ etched onto the metal. She figured the ‘R’ stood for Rosalind, her name. A snake with an emerald for an eye was coiled around the letter, which added more elegance to the antique. It was the most beautiful thing that Hermione ever owned. Even though she received the necklace last week, Hermione knew she would treasure it forever.

Her roommate let out a sigh which alerted Hermione back to reality. As she was worrying her lip, Hermione looked over to see that her roommate also had a concerned expression on her face.

“Sorry Gin. I shouldn’t push this on you. Gran was in her eighties and your brother was much younger,” Hermione apologized as she wiped away some stray tears. It was then that she noticed her friend was crying too.

“No, Hermione. It’s all right. We both lost a _lot_ of people close to us,” Ginny told her, “I understand.”

The two girls sat in the comfortable silence of sympathy. As if noticing the somber mood in the room, Crookshanks head-butted both girls and then hopped onto Hermione’s bed.

“Oh Crooks. We know you’ll always be there for us,” Hermione acknowledged as she devoted her attention to her cat. The feline rested himself by her side and yawned. “You’re right, Crooks. Sleep sounds great.”

At this comment, Ginny snorted. “Oh, so you’ll listen to Crooks, but you won’t listen to me. I see how it is,” Ginny sassed as she tucked herself under her blankets.

Hermione laughed as she reassured her roommate, “You know you’re one of my best friends, Gin.” Her reassurance was met with fake snores. “Good night, Gin.”

“Good night, ‘Mione,” Ginny responded before she dozed off. Hermione charmed the lights in the room to go out before she fell asleep.

If she hadn’t lost focus on her pendant, Hermione would have noticed the pulsating glow of the snake’s emerald eye.

—

A young, blond wizard attempted to make his way through the rubble of Hogwarts castle back to his Hufflepuff dormitory. He was carrying a feather duster in one hand and his poorly illuminated wand in the other, stomping, and pouting his way through the quiet corridors. The trek would’ve been much easier before the Battle of Hogwarts, but now the hallways were much dimmer and filled with many obstacles along the way.

“Why did the final battle take place in Hogwarts anyway?” he grumbled to himself. “It is inconvenient for the rest of us that have to clean up this bloody mess.”

Many of the students were already safely tucked away in their dorms, but not he! He had been assigned to clean one of the classrooms all the way by the Ravenclaw tower. While he was in the process of dusting off a wall, the ceiling crashed above him, which trapped him in the classroom for three hours.

He was trapped in an old Charms classroom for _three bloody hours_.

“Besides, I didn’t even _fight_ in this stupid war! Don’t they have house elves for these situations?” he whined. “Also, I’m a Smith! _I’m_ a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff. If bloody Voldemort doesn’t want to clean up his mess because he’s a descendant of Slytherin, then I shouldn’t have to- AHHH!!”

If Zacharias had not been ranting to himself, he would’ve noticed the gaping hole in the floor that he was currently falling through. He screamed bloody murder as he saw other castle floors zip by as gravity took him downwards.

Once he recognized the first floor and saw a ledge to hold onto, he let go of the feather duster in his right hand and held on tight for his dear life with his left. He could feel the blood rushing to his toes as the sweat on his hands started to culminate. With every second, it became increasingly more difficult to hold onto the ledge. All he could hear was the sound of his heart palpitating due to his panic.

“Help me!” he yelled, “Somebody please help me!” There was no response.

Zacharias desperately tried to think of a way to help himself out. His wand was lodged in his left pocket, which was difficult to reach with his right hand. Each time he struggled to reach his pocket, the grip that he had on the ledge loosened.

“HELP ME!” he shrieked even louder this time. “Somebody _please_ help!”

To his great relief, he heard footsteps coming from the corridor. The footsteps became louder as his savior got closer to him. Zacharias felt himself being levitated from the gaping hole and onto the stony ground of the Great Hall. He let out a sigh of relief to feel a floor beneath his body.

“Mister Smith, may I ask what you were doing wandering the corridors at this late of an hour? You know that it’s dangerous to explore the castle at night, especially during this time of repair. We do not have the sunlight to aid us in avoiding these obstacles,” the familiar, condescending tone of the headmistress spoke.

The Hufflepuff student clumsily scrambled to his feet. Once he dusted himself off, he grumbled his reply, “I was trapped in a Charms classroom for _three hours_. If there are obstacles in the castle, shouldn’t you be more aware of the safety of the students?” He glared at his professor as he folded his arms across his chest.

“This is why the staff and I are patrolling the best we can,” the headmistress answered, unaffected by her student’s attitude. She had charmed a parchment to appear to show what duties students were assigned. Her eyes scanned the parchment for his name and narrowed her eyes once she saw his task. “Besides, I was unaware that a simple dusting of a Charms classroom would lead to such a disaster.”

Zacharias was not happy when he saw a smirk tug at the headmistress’s cheek. Oh, he would show her. “It is when you assign a _man_ to perform _household_ charms,” he retorted with a snort.

Her smirk was instantly schooled into her usual stern mask. She heaved out a sigh and rubbed her head. “Mister Smith, I advise you to think wisely before you speak. Otherwise, you will not have much luck in your future endeavors in academia, in your career, and especially with your relationships with other females.

“Now, go to Madam Pomfrey and she will take care of your injuries,” she commanded him as she pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. “It’s fortunate that school is not in session, for I would take many points from Hufflepuff for your blatant disrespect.”

Zacharias cringed as he made his way towards the hospital wing.

Once her disrespectful student left, she heard a soft thud sound from the gaping hole from which she had pulled him away. The older woman peeked over the edge as she held her illuminated wand over it to see.

The ground was pitch black, and it was difficult to see what was down below. The headmistress had never looked below Hogwarts’ depths before, for it had never been exposed in all the years she attended, apprenticed, and taught at the institution.

If the headmistress could have seen what was hiding in the abyss, she would have evacuated the whole castle, for a creature much larger than the castle itself, opened its eye and stared at the abandoned feather duster that landed on it.

—

**July 1945**

Tom admired the glowing Slytherin locket in his palm with pride. It has been a long time since he felt complete.

Three years ago, the glorious murder of his muggle ancestors had been one of the happiest days he’d been alive. Now that he was nineteen, this moment comes at a close second.

He admired his handiwork of killing the blasted witch. Her frilly yellow dress stained with her own blood and her glassy, beady eyes were smeared with gaudy, makeup tears. She looked just as pathetic as his dear old father. Her only redeeming quality was that she valued the golden cup that had fallen out of her hands.

How did the most powerful items in all of Great Britain end up in the hands of such a lousy witch? Hepzibah Smith could hardly even cast a proper household spell.

Once Tom snatched the item, he cast a quick cleaning spell to the quaint cottage. Realizing that the woman of the house could not keep a place so tidy, he added some of her usual clutter to her dining area. He levitated her lifeless body upon the chair she previously occupied, and her face fell onto the plate of biscuits by her tea.

It was fitting that a woman who loved her biscuits so much that it killed her. Part of the reason she died was that she had a half-chewed biscuit in her mouth as he _Avada Kedavra_ -ed her. Oh well, at least she served well to create another Horcrux.

Tom fastened the locket around his neck and admired himself in the mirror with pride. At last, he possessed something that belonged to the great Salazar Slytherin. The locket pulsated with a glow that Tom assumed had something to do with his newly-split soul.

He caught his reflection in a hallway mirror and smirked. Tom smoothed his hair out into its perfectly-coiffed look, winked at his reflection and swaggered out of the small cottage.

Salazar Slytherin would be proud of what he was about to accomplish. He was sure of it.

With a soft yawn and easy stretch, Tom apparated himself back to his flat above Borgin and Burke’s. It didn’t take him long to carelessly remove his robes and settle peacefully in his bed. Before he closed his eyes, he heaved out a sigh as he admired the locket on his chest.

Dealing with brainless people was exhausting, but it was worth it to acquire objects that belonged to one of the most powerful wizards of all time. With dreamy thoughts of world domination, Tom Riddle closed his eyes and went to bed.

—

**July 995**

It was barely dawn when he awoke in his bedchamber. The only sounds that could be heard were her soft, steady breaths that indicated she was still fast asleep.

He admired how luminous her skin looked in the pale moonlight. She was quite a sight for his sleep-fogged eyes. Without realizing it, his hand raised up to caress her cheek lovingly. The soft touch was enough to stir her from her sleep.

“Mmm… my love,” she moaned as she pressed her cheek against his calloused hand. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, then she turned her head to press her lips against his fingers.

He still could not believe that out of all the wizards who sought her affections, this dazzling witch chose him.

He did not have much to his name after the Slytherins waged a war against the muggles who had killed their people. Those muggles used the lousy and untrue excuse that the Slytherins and their bannermen practiced witchcraft against them, just to slaughter them and conquer their land.

Lords Ravenclaw and Gryffindor drew up a truce with the magical and non-magical. After all, the lords had nothing to lose and everything to gain. The Slytherin lands were far away from the Scottish Highlands. It also meant that the wizards and witches that were left behind were brought to be of service to them as well. Lord Ravenclaw agreed to take in Salazar as a ward when he was eight, as Lord Gryffindor took in the younger Selene Slytherin.

At least the muggles had the decency to not murder children. Salazar knew that this would be their weakness, for angry children grew to become vengeful adults.

Even though the Slytherins lost the war, his only saving grace was that he was brought up beside Lady Rowena Ravenclaw. She was younger than him, but she possessed an enthusiasm for knowledge that only added to her beauty. While other witches her age were caught up in their own appearances, Lady Rowena was caught up in her father’s library.

The library was their secret world away from everyone. It was there where they discovered their shared passion for literature, which would gradually grow into a shared passion for one another. It was a match that would not have been approved by Lord Ravenclaw, as Lady Rowena was already promised to Lord Gryffindor’s son. Lord Ravenclaw had tried his very best to keep his ward and his daughter apart, for he feared that the Slytherin purist ideals would poison his daughter.

Yet it was here, in Salazar’s prison cell disguised as a bedchamber, that Lady Rowena chose to rest. She could have slept in her luxurious featherbed, but she claimed she was much more comfortable sleeping in his arms. He had woken up like this for the past year now, and Salazar planned on keeping it that way.

Salazar didn’t have many possessions, so he treasured the ones he had dearly. He was hers and she was his.

As he admired the witch beside him, he felt a swell of emotion flutter in his chest. Salazar was not good at handling and expressing his emotions, due to his traumatic childhood. Despite that, he felt like he could achieve anything with her. The build-up of anxiety was enough to encourage him to confess the depth of his feelings for her.

While he wasn’t skilled with words that revealed his vulnerability, Salazar excelled at gestures.

“Rowena,” he softly spoke, “I have something for you.”

This sparked the attention of the curious young woman. She instantly sat up and peered over at what he was fiddling with on his end table. It appeared to be a nondescript, wooden box, a box she knew to hold the objects he held dear. She knew that was where he placed the locket that belonged to his mother. There were powerful wards protecting the box from thieves.

She knew Salazar didn’t have much. She would hate for it if he went through the trouble of finding her a gift, even though it was their anniversary. Though Rowena was a highborn lady, she didn’t care much for jewelry and riches.

“Oh Sal,” she whispered, “You didn’t have to get me anything. You are the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Salazar opened the box to reveal the lovely necklace he had transfigured the day before. It was a project of his that he’d been working on for since he realized the depth of his devotion for the love of his life.

He designed the pendant with her in mind. He knew she didn’t care much for the over-the-top jewels, and that she preferred something dainty and simplistic. The oval-shaped silver pendant had an emerald-eyed snake coiled itself around the first leg of the letter ‘R,’ an obvious symbol of himself and his devotion to her. There was also a protective measure on the necklace linked to his locket. If Lady Rowena was ever in danger, it would transport him to her.

When he presented her with the crafted jewelry, he saw her eyes sparkle in admiration. It may not have been as showy as other accessories she had been gifted, but it had been made especially for her. She held the pendant towards the glowing moonlight and smiled in adoration.

“It’s beautiful,” she complimented his work. Then, she balled the necklace in her fist so she could steady herself to straddle him. Lady Rowena proceeded to pepper his face and neck with kisses of gratitude and adoration.

Salazar sat up with her in his lap to meet her kisses with his lips. His hand searched for hers to grasp the necklace once again. He pulled away slightly so he could fasten the jewelry around her slender neck.

“The necklace is linked with my locket. If ever you find yourself in a dangerous situation, my locket will transport me to wherever you are,” he informed her as he caressed her cheek. Then, he took the time to fasten his locket around his neck. Both the locket and the pendant glowed in unison.

Lady Rowena narrowed her eyes and huffed in indignation. “Sal, you know very well that I am capable of protecting myself,” she chastised him as she poked his nose playfully.

“Not when you have ambitions to build our institution on top of _that_ cave,” he corrected her.

In response, she shoved him back down towards the bed. “The rocks of that cave are thrumming with protective magic that can be traced back to the time of Merlin and Morgana! It’s the perfect place to preserve the education of our future students!” she argued as her wavy locks began to frizz due to her anger.

He chuckled at her stubbornness and wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger. “You know I agree with you, but there is a reason that the past generations have steered clear of that area by the lake,” he attempted to be her voice of logic.

“It’s a complete myth, a wives’ tale. Dragons are friendly creatures to humans. There is no way that the cave holds a dragon that will feast on our souls and destroy our world. Dragons depend on us for survival. Besides, Godric takes care of them all the time,” she stated.

At the mention of the redheaded oaf’s name, Salazar cringed. She pinched his shoulder when she saw him grimace.

“I know this is a terrible situation, but we cannot make our relationship public while I am still betrothed to Godric. Once we have the school settled, we’ll have a steady form of income and I can break the arrangement of our fathers,” she reassured him. “This is why we need to be as efficient as possible when we build the school. It will help us a great deal if we use that cave by the lake. This is, after all, for _your_ benefit.”

Salazar switched their positions so that he was on top of her. He gazed hungrily at her body and covered her breasts with his lips. Almost instantly, she moaned and arched herself closer to his mouth.

“On the contrary, Lady Ravenclaw, this is for _your_ benefit,” he breathed against her skin as his kiss continued moving south. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he looked up to smirk at her as he bit her slender thigh. He proceeded to pay generous attention to the area between her legs and pleasured her with his tongue. He felt her right hand cradle the back of his head as her body buckled under his lips with pleasure.

With practiced ease, he began to pump two fingers in her slick entrance. He could feel her body tremble with delight as she tried to remain quiet. Salazar thoroughly enjoyed pleasing her, because, for a witch who loved to be in control, she was simply irresistible when she lost it.

It was one of his favorite pastimes to see her come undone, especially if he was the one that brought her there. It turned him on greatly to know that she would never let anyone else witness her loss of control.

He looked up from his ministrations to see her body writhing under the flicks of his tongue. She strengthened her grip on the back of his head as she was pushed closer to the edge. A soft moan of “Sweet Salazar” escapes her lips when he added a third finger inside her.

She had to bite her lips to refrain from being heard as she climaxed. She didn’t want anyone to hear that she wasn’t in her own quarters. Ladies were supposed to be pure and whole before they were married.

This wasn’t their first time, and this would not be their last.

“It’s for _our_ benefit,” she whispered as she yanked his body up so that he could enter her. Both Salazar and Rowena never felt more complete when their bodies were joined with one another.

—

**July 1998**

Hermione could not remember if she’d ever slept more peacefully in her entire life.

It had been difficult to sleep after the war, after all the trauma she had experienced. She would often wake up with nightmares of witnessing her friends’ deaths. She slept with her wand under her pillow, often afraid that a Death Eater may appear out of nowhere.

She definitely didn’t have any fitful dreams last night.

Instead, she had a fanciful dream about being Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, having a very illicit affair with her father’s ward while she was betrothed to someone else. Hermione didn’t realize that her subconscious could come up with dirty fantasies of the Hogwarts founders if she read _Hogwarts: A History_ before going to bed. She really must have been going through a dry spell after her brief fling with Ron.

The dream had been so delicious, that she could still feel the imprint of his warmth pressed against her back and his hardness pressed against her bottom. As her eyes fluttered open, she realized that not only had her favorite silk nightie had disappeared but that her own naked body was pressed up against another, very masculine (and very fit) naked body.

The only male that she remembered being in bed with was Crookshanks, who was snuggled up peacefully in front of her belly and on top of the blanket. Hermione shut her eyes tightly and willed for the feeling behind her to disappear, and for her nightie to somehow reappear. This had to be remnants of her naughty night fantasy.

It seemed that Crookshanks noticed her unease, for he nudged her head with his own and licked her cheek in reassurance. The action confirmed that this moment was very much not a dream, but reality at its finest.

She opened her eyes again to realize she was still inside the Gryffindor Seventh Year Dorm Suite that she shared with Ginny. She knew that this unexpected visitor in her bed would not bode well with her roommate, especially since Hermione had rejected her request to have Harry sleep here and that Hermione had just broken up with her brother.

To Hermione’s dismay, she felt the stranger nuzzle his head in her hair and press a kiss beneath her ear. Every sense she felt was _very real_.

In order to create as little noise as she could, Hermione slowly shifted her body so she could get a better look at the man sharing a bed with her. She made sure to not move so abruptly so that the rouse the stranger from sleep. Also, she didn’t want to create a ruckus, especially when her roommate was still dozing.

When she turned around, she was shocked to see how handsome the stranger was. His features were similar to the Salazar Slytherin in her dream, but his face was more rounded out. His cheekbones were not as harsh but angled enough to amplify his attractiveness. His hair was much more of a wave than the tight curls. The slight, but well-kept stubble was much more appealing than the full-grown beard that Slytherin wore. He had a leaner frame, but she could still feel that he was well-toned.

Life was not fair. She wished that she looked as attractive sleeping as he did.

It was easy for Hermione to jump to the conclusion that the person sharing her bed had to be related to Salazar Slytherin in some way, especially since he was wearing the Slytherin locket. She was supposed to be a Gryffindor, but hot damn! Dream Slytherin and Slytherin descendant were two, very fit, tall glasses of water… and Godric be damned, she was parched. That dream last night really activated her hormones.

Then, the cogs in her mind began to turn when she realized he was wearing the Slytherin locket, the same locket which was Lord Voldemort’s Horcrux that they had destroyed… and wasn’t Slytherin’s last living descendant Lord Voldemort?

Before she could solve the issue at hand, Crookshanks decided that he didn’t like anyone else having his owner’s attention, so he jumped and scratched at the strange intruder in her bed.

“YOU FILTHY FELINE!” the intruder yelled as he attempted to fight off the kneazle. Crookshanks sharpened his claws and dug them into his skin. Hermione tried her best to lift her pet from his face.

“Crooks, be gentle,” she attempted to soothe the feline, but Crookshanks growled more as he ferociously bit into one of the stranger’s fingers.

Once Hermione was able to dislodge the cat from the handsome stranger’s face, she saw a spell zoom past her and petrified the stranger. The brunette whipped her head around to see her seething roommate with her wand held high.

“Hermione,” Ginny growled angrily, “why is there a young, naked, and very much alive Lord Voldemort in your bed?” The redhead hyperventilated enough to induce herself to pass out.

When her roommate fell to the floor with a thud, Hermione felt her own heart fill with dread and sink to her toes.

How in the bloody hell did all this happen, and how, in Godric’s name, was she going to fix it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione struggles with her reality. Tom Riddle couldn't be this attractive. Tom Riddle couldn't have traveled more than 50 years forward in time. Tom Riddle couldn't be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took a really long time. I just moved across the country and started a new job that's taking up all my time. I also had to write this a bunch of times until I found something I was happy with. This is really much more of a development chapter as the plot thickens. We'll get back to Zacharias and the Founders in the next chapter. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

**July 1998**

 

Hermione always knew she was a rational person.

 

When she first discovered she was magical, she did not believe Professor McGonagall one bit. She always assumed that the objects that had moved around her were being controlled by the Earth’s gravitational forces, rather than her powers. She explained every phenomena that occurred with pure science.

 

In fact, she debated every instance with Professor McGonagall until the elderly professor whipped out her wand to prove her wrong.

 

Now that she understood the world of magic much better than her eleven-year-old self, she knew that there were rules in both the wizarding and muggle worlds. People lived on Earth, and people died. One could not die and be brought back to life. Because of Lord Voldemort, that rule had to be re-written with an extra clause. One could not die and be brought back to life once all of one’s horcruxes have been destroyed.

 

Hermione was absolutely positive that they had destroyed Slytherin’s locket. She did not have to suffer that whole ordeal with Ron for that locket still be intact. That did not explain the presence of said-locket and a young (and incredibly handsome and undressed) Dark Lord in her bed.

 

And to top it all off, she had an unconscious best friend to deal with too.

 

The brunette found her nightgown tossed on the side of her bed. She could have sworn that she went to bed with her silk nightgown on. Hermione was a conservative person, and rarely ever undressed in her sleep. She shook off the thought to quickly dress herself and prioritize the other two problems in the room.

 

Crookshanks found it unusual for his new scratch toy to be so still. The kneazle kept nudging his head against the young Dark Lord. He even got to the point of purring and licking Lord Voldemort affectionately.

 

Hermione couldn’t help but feel ultimate betrayal to Crooks’s immediate change in attitude. Her feline familiar was always a good judge of character when it came to the identity of her friends and enemies. When Lavender was still alive, Crooks would attack her without any prompt. Crookshanks never warmed up to Ron, but he always greeted Harry and the others with an enthusiastic headbutt.

 

It was then that the rational side of her brain kicked in. Crooks was probably only being nice since Tom Riddle slept beside her and smelled like her. She could feel the temperature in her cheeks rise as she recalled the feeling of being held against the dark lord’s lean body.

 

No, Crooks couldn’t possibly think Lord Voldemort was a friend.

 

Even if her cat was suddenly being friendly to the unwelcome stranger, it didn’t mean that she trusted Tom Riddle one bit. She wasn’t sure of his wand-less abilities, but knew that she had to perform an _Incarcerous_ spell to keep him bound. She did not know how long Ginny’s _Petrificus Totalus_ would hold up, especially when her friend was unconscious.

 

Hermione walked closer to the petrified man so she could examine his size. Her conscious mind was telling her that she was only doing this so the clothes would fit. Her hormonal subconscious was telling her that he was quite the handsome specimen.

 

When her eyes landed on his still face, she faltered. Ever since she had gotten the necklace, she’d been having dreams about having passionate sexual encounters with a man she’d never seen before. It was only until now that she was able to observe the real Tom Riddle’s face, the one he had before he turned into Lord Voldemort, that she was able to see the slight similarities between Tom Riddle and the man in her dreams.

 

Was her necklace encouraging her to make love to the young Lord Voldemort? No, the necklace could not have any powers. It belonged to her muggle grandmother. It wasn’t possible for a necklace that belonged to her nan to have magical properties.

 

Hermione shook her head to get rid of the thoughts. It could just be by chance that she dreamt about a guy who was similar to the young Tom Riddle. After all, the mystery man in her dreams could very well be a muggle male model used in print ads.

 

With the similar-looking male model in mind, Hermione charmed some well-fitted muggle clothing on Tom Riddle and picked up Crookshanks. She filed that problem in her brain as temporarily solved as she turned to face her unconscious roommate.

 

Normally, in all matters Ginny-related, she would fetch Harry. The presence of the Dark-Lord-who-just-won’t- _bloody_ -die completely crossed that idea out. The next person on her list would be Ron. Maybe Ron didn’t know what a young Tom Riddle looked like, but he certainly wouldn’t be happy about a naked and handsome man in her bed. Ron already had quite the temper, but in combination with the fact that she had just broken up with him _and_ she refused to give her virginity to him, she was sure that Ron would explode.

 

Neville and the others were not options either. While they had been helpful during the war, this situation was far too delicate for it to spread. If there was anything that Gryffindors were known for other than their confidence and bravery, it was the impulsivity and the lack of secrets that lions were known for.

 

However, there was one Gryffindor that was the most responsible one of them all. Without a second thought, Hermione sent a patronus towards the Headmistress. Surely, McGonagall would know what to do with a situation like this.

 

—

 

The silvery shimmer of an otter patronus nudged the headmistress awake. Her first reaction was to hide under her blankets and ignore the living world. She had enough of a headache to deal with Zacharias Smith at the ungodly hour he was creating a ruckus, and now someone else was stealing more hours from her sacred slumber.

 

If only Dumbledore had advised her about how little sleep she would receive as a headmistress, she would have not taken the promotion. Classes were not in-session, so Minerva deserved a decent amount of rest.

 

It did not help that the shimmer of the patronus bled through her blanket and momentarily blinded her eyes. No, Minerva was not going to sleep tonight.

 

She huffed as she tossed the blanket away from her body only to see a familiar otter summoning her towards the Gryffindor tower. Her earlier grumpiness disappeared when she realized that it was Hermione Granger that was asking for help. Minerva trusted her star student to only contact her if it was an emergency.

 

The headmistress stole a glance at her wristwatch, which indicated that it was still 4:36 in the morning. Minerva inwardly cringed when she calculated that she had only gotten a total of two hours of sleep.

 

With her luck, Ms Granger’s situation could easily be solved and then she could drift back to her quarters to sleep.

 

—

 

Tom never thought that this would ever happen to him.

 

He was a man with goals and ambitions. He had an army to build. He had a world to control. He was not a man who wasted his time on baser instincts like sex. Sure, he had the occasional wank from time to time, but he prided himself on how rare those occasions were.

 

Which is why he was very disappointed that he found himself very attracted to the witch he woke up besides him. Even though he was bound by ropes and lying on his side, he could still feel the imprint of her body pressed up against his.

 

He could tell she wasn’t an average witch. While the redhead’s spell faded soon after she passed out, he could tell the brunette’s magic was much stronger. The _Incarcerous_ , if not reinforced, could easily last a whole day.

 

It also helped that she was naturally physically appealing. He was never fond of a girl who wasted her time in enhancing her appearance. He could tell from the dressers besides the girls’ beds that the brunette did not have as much beauty potions that the redhead owned. He also noticed that the brunette’s bedside table had a stack of advanced magic textbooks that were very well-worn.

 

The brunette is a natural beauty, a scholar, and a powerful witch. It was almost as if this witch was made to serve him.

 

Tom was glad that the attraction was not one-sided. He could tell that her gaze lingered on his appearance far longer than was necessary. Tom knew that he was a handsome man. It was the only thing he appreciated from his muggle father. Sure, he could have gotten by with his intelligence and his charm, but all his goals have been achieved at a much faster rate with his looks. Tom wasn’t superficial by any means, but he knew the way the world worked.

 

Yes, the brunette would definitely be a good soldier to add to his ranks. It was rather unfortunate that she had a faded “mudblood” scar on her arm, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use her for what she worth and toss her to the side when her usefulness dried up. He would not entertain his lust to mess up his perfect plan for world domination.

 

If there was anything true about Tom, it was that he was perfect.

 

Well, almost perfect. He just started studying wand-less magic. While he could have unraveled the redhead’s curse by blinking, he knew that he needed his wand to free him from the brunette’s spell.

 

Speaking of the brunette, she looked more enchanting when she was deep in thought.

 

Tom wanted to smack himself for thinking like an adolescent boy with a crush, especially about a mudblood. Every single time these hormonal thoughts entered his brain, he felt himself sliding away from the peak of perfection. No, Tom needed to stop his hormonal brain from distracting itself and focus on productive measures. He was not human. He was _better_ than human.

 

For instance, there must be something else about the female that is garnering his attention. There was something about her that was drawing him.

 

The brunette still had no idea that Tom was able to move his eyes, or that he was conscious of her every move. She continued to fidget with her necklace. For barely a second, a glowing emerald glimmered in the candlelight.

 

It was in that moment that Tom zeroed in on her slender neck. From his position on the ground, he could barely see the pendant. He could tell it was an elegant silver letter, but he needed to be closer to investigate.

 

Tom carefully edged himself closer to the brunette without her noticing. She seemed like she was deep in thought and not paying attention to her surroundings. As he scooted himself closer, he squinted a bit so he could trace the outline of her pendant. The letter might have been an ‘R’ or a ‘K,’ but he still needed a better look.

 

Just as he was able to get a better view of the jewelry, the kneazle blocked his line of vision with an eager headbutt and a swish of its tail. After turning around in place about three times, the brunette’s familiar settled itself with its bottom near Tom’s face. Between every tail swish, Tom got an eyeful of a feline anus.

 

Before Tom could complain and grumble about his unfortunate situation, the door opened to reveal an older witch in her nightgown. Tom was unable to get a good look at the woman with a furry tail blocking his vision, but she did emit a familiar magical aura.

 

The brunette immediately got up from her bed to greet her guest.

 

“Professor McGonagall! Thank goodness!” the brunette exclaimed as she gestured towards the room. She quickly shut the door behind the older woman.

 

—

 

When Minerva observed the environment of the Gryffindor girls’ dorm, things seemed relatively harmless.

 

Besides the bed closest to the door was an unconscious Ginevra Weasley. This was an unwelcome, but familiar sight she had seen during the girl’s first-year altercation with Tom Riddle’s diary. An unconscious student was something she could fix. Madam Pomfrey could nurse her and then Ms Weasley will be in tip-top shape.

 

“If you were just talking about Ms Weasley’s health then I could…” Before she could finish, her usually polite student interrupted her by abruptly clearing her throat.

 

“Ginny is not the problem,” she spoke softly as she led the headmistress around her bed so she could see the other person in the room.

 

Minerva saw a dark-haired young man with a cat obscuring his face. He was currently tied up and thankfully, clothed. She knew that the youth of this time and age had peculiar kinks, but she would not tolerate it on her term as headmistress. This was clearly against school policy, regardless of the fact that school was not currently in session.

 

“Is this Mr. Potter? He should know much better than…”

 

Ms Granger shook her head as she swatted her cat away to reveal a face that Minerva hadn’t seen in a very long time. It was a face that she didn’t _want_ to see, especially when he was supposed to be _dead_.

 

“Hello Minerva. Age did not treat you kindly,” a silky baritone interrupted her thoughts. Minerva’s gaze transferred to the young Tom Riddle before her. He blew his hair out of his eyes. It seemed that he looked a bit older than when he had graduated Hogwarts but not by much. He had that same air of arrogance, even as tied up as he was, when he was the Head Boy to her Head Girl.

 

All of this didn’t change the fact that he was supposed to be _dead_.

 

“I must have been transported fifty years into the future for you to look as saggy as Dumbledore did in our seventh year,” he insulted her. This was something that wasn’t new. He had been the subject of his teasing all throughout their Hogwarts years. “I see you no one ever wanted to marry you either.”

 

At this comment, Ms Granger kicked the unwelcome guest with her foot. Minerva was grateful to have an ally like Hermione Granger. “Be polite,” the brunette commanded the guest, “The headmistress is the only one I trust to help you.”

 

Normally, Minerva would reprimand a student if they acted violently towards another student, but she knew that Ms Granger was justified.

 

“Start from the beginning, and do not leave out any details,” Minerva told her star student.

 

With a quick _Muffliato_ , Hermione Granger cleared her throat. Minerva couldn’t help but feel pride when Ms Granger handled the situation. She knew she was able to teach her well. Minerva also hoped for a tell-tale sign that Ms Granger would divulge that meant that this was all a dream.

 

There is no possible way that Tom Riddle could have come back to life for a third time. The world would not be able to handle it.

 

“It was just another night repairing the castle. I was reading _Hogwarts: A History_ to look for any information on how the castle was built. Ginny told me to go to sleep. I slept with my nightgown on,” Ms Granger started, and then she hesitated to continue.

 

It was then that Ms Granger’s face turned a shade of pink. At this, Minerva narrowed her eyes. Ms Granger was a young and strong woman. There should be no reason for her to be flustered, unless…

 

“Ms Granger, why did you add that detail about what you were wearing?” she questioned.

 

Ms Granger’s eyes averted Minerva’s gaze as she fiddled with her fingers. She could see her student bite the inside of her cheek, and then heave out a breath. This was obviously the part that she was too embarrassed to reveal.

 

“I… uh… I woke up to him embracing me and…” Ms Granger faltered and cleared her throat, “andweweren’twearinganyclothes,” the brunette quickly confessed as she avoided her professor’s gaze. She looked to observe the tied-up man behind her. “… and I saw that he was wearing the locket, which I’m pretty confident we destroyed…”

 

Minerva rubbed her head in order to massage her increasing headache. That had to be the statement she needed to wake up. The Dark Lord himself would never find himself in a compromising position with a muggleborn witch like Hermione Granger. If she remembered correctly, Tom Riddle never had any romantic dalliances when they were still students at Hogwarts.

 

She discreetly pinched herself, only to find that she was still in the Gryffindor girls’ dorms, with a very alive Tom Riddle. Oh how she wished that this was all just a dream, that she would wake up next to the man she loved.

 

Alphard would never be brought back to life, _especially_ since his murderer miraculously came back to life.

 

It was times like these that she desperately needed guidance. In the past, she’d always look to Albus for guidance. She took a moment to imagine what the situation would like wearing Dumbledore’s half-moon spectacles. The logical answer would be to solve the little problems before the bigger ones.

 

“Ms Granger, thank you for telling me all the details. I will take Ms Weasley to the infirmary and obliviate her memory of the last 24 hours,” Minerva told her with a strong tone. “You will not leave this room under any circumstances. I will do my best to ward this dorm and the connecting washroom. The house elves will be bringing you fresh linens, clothes, and food. You are to make sure that Mr Riddle does not leave your sight or grab a hold of your wand. You must also make sure to not reveal _anything_ from the future to Mr Riddle. I will do my research on how to transport Mr Riddle and consult with the portraits in my office.”

 

“But the castle repairs…” Ms Granger trailed off as she turned around to look at their unwanted guest. It seemed then that she realized that dealing with the young Mr Riddle was the priority. “You’re right. I will do what I can.”

 

With a sigh, Minerva gazed around the room again to find the confused look of a young Tom Riddle. It appeared that the young Riddle attempted to scoot himself closer to hear their conversation. When he saw that her focus had transferred to him, he quickly masked his look of confusion to be one of indifference.

 

Ms Granger removed the spell that muffled their conversation, when she saw her focus transfer to the unwelcome guest.

 

“Riddle, we will do everything we can to get you back to your time. In the mean time, you will be kind to Ms Granger. She is in charge of taking care of your stay here,” Minerva informed him, “You are not to leave this room. Everything you need to survive will be delivered here. Stepping out of line is not advised, Riddle, for we can _and_ will continue to make it very uncomfortable for you.”

 

She gave a menacing stare to the young man and headed towards the door. “Good day, Ms Granger, and Mr Riddle,” she bid them goodbye as she levitated the unconscious Ms Weasley before her and out of the room.

 

—

 

Once the headmistress left the room, Hermione let out a deep sigh and plopped herself on her bed. A heavy wave of exhaustion washed over her. She had officially become the babysitter of a time-traveling dark lord. At least she had Crooks with her to keep her company.

 

When she thought about her cat, she attempted to summon her familiar away from the unwelcome guest. The best way to get Crooks to follow her directions was if she leaned in close to where he was.

 

“Let me see your necklace,” a masculine voice interrupted her thoughts. “It looks familiar.”

 

Hermione quickly straightened her stance and hid her necklace from his view. “No, this belonged to my nan, my very _muggle_ nan. This necklace is none of your business,” she protested.

 

The young dark lord chuckled. Hermione noted that it was a very attractive sound, but she was too angry and defensive to react to her hormones right now. It was a good thing that Crookshanks had snuggled up besides her to calm her down.

 

“Your nan is not a muggle. You can’t be a full mudblood if you’re wearing one of Slytherin’s first designs. He warded all of his powerful objects to repel mudbloods and full-blooded muggles.”

 

Hermione felt her heart drop. It couldn’t be a possibility… right? If Tom Riddle was correct, then that would mean her whole life had been a lie. Then again, the only possible way for her to explain the situation was through Lord Voldemort’s revelation.

 

“I must be dreaming, and I will go back to sleep. When I wake up, you will be gone and all of this will be over,” she stated as she snuggled back underneath her covers. Crookshanks settled himself besides her pillow.

 

“If you’re going to sleep, can you at least muster up some Gryffindor goodness and conjure me a cot?” he requested. “I haven’t gotten that much rest either, having travelled fifty years into the future and all. Sleeping all tied up isn’t as comfortable as you think.”

 

“This is all a dream, so you’re just a figment of my imagination. It doesn’t matter if you’re comfortable or not,” she sleepily responded. She grabbed her wand from under her pillow and reinforced her charm to make it last even longer. “You’ll be gone as soon as I wake up.”

 

“You’re in denial,” he reminded her.

 

“No. I’m a rational person,” she sleepily told him as she snuggled closer to her pillow. “We killed you, twice. Your horcruxes have been destroyed. I personally saw that locket get destroyed. No one has ever traveled through time for more than a day. You’re a figment of my post-war brain. Good night.”

 

With those more rational thoughts in mind, Hermione drifted off into peaceful slumber. Once the young Dark Lord reassured himself that girl’s feline familiar would not be a danger to him, he too succumbed to sleep.

 

Both of them did not even notice that their necklaces were glowing brighter than they ever had before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Hogwarts really a safe place to be?

**July 995**

 

Once Rowena made it through the forest and reached the Black Lake, she knew that this would be the site for her educational institution.

 

Ever since Rowena was a child, she could remember running through the fields of wildflowers off the edge of her father’s lands, much to her mother’s dismay. She used to imagine that she had built an imaginary castle filled with books and lemon cakes. She loved rolling around in the grass and watching all the little creatures scurry away from her fingers. Though she would come home with her dress robes with grass stains all over, her mother’s frown would vanish when she saw the bouquet of primroses in her chubby hands.

 

When a number of children from Hogsmeade suddenly disappeared around the cave, her lord father enforced stricter rules. No one was allowed to step near the area by the Black Lake. The forest leading to the cave became forbidden to the townspeople.

 

Rowena refused to believe that there was something wrong with the magical spot where she spent most of her childhood. This place was home to her as much as the castle she inhabited. This was where she dreamed of building her own castle, a castle which would encourage the next generation to learn and discover more about their own world.

 

Even though Salazar knew about her plans, he remained skeptical. He wondered why she hadn’t chosen a different place, a place that would definitely be safer for their future children. Rowena knew that Salazar would understand the minute he arrived behind her. He would appreciate the raw magical power that emanated from the cave and the area surrounding it.

 

She saw her lover emerge from the forest with an expression filled with wonder. She could tell that he could feel the cave’s aura, even though they were still far away from the cave.

 

“See? This is the perfect spot. We’d already have supplies from the cave to build the castle, and we can conform the magic from the cave to protect all the students,” she explained. “Don’t you think it’s a splendid idea?”

 

She noticed Salazar’s mouth drop open when he stared at the hollow opening before him. There was no doubt that he could feel the magic pulsing through the area. She could feel the electricity of the magic prickle her fingers. She saw her lover lift his hand to touch the free-flowing magic in the air.

 

“I’ve only heard what the townspeople and the servants in the castle have said about this place. I didn’t imagine it would be this magnificent,” he said as he managed to conjure a green-tinted ball of pure magic without his wand. “The magic here is pure and raw. Are you sure we’ll be able to tame it?”

 

Rowena could tell that Salazar was becoming more open-minded about building their future school here. “You and I are the most powerful witch and wizard in this area. With our skills combined, I _know_ we’ll be able to do it,” she reassured him as she conjured a blue-tinted sphere of magic. “I think we can harness this magic to build a protective shield around our school so that no one will disrupt the health and education of our students.”

 

Salazar continued to inspect the environment for any possible hazards. “I understand your rationale of building the school here. We wouldn’t have to import the supplies for masonry and magic. It is near the forest and fields, which is great for potion supplies,” he stated as he faced the entrance of the cave. “I just can’t shake the idea that this area has the potential to be dangerous. Many children hired by the apothecary that gathered herbs near this forest have disappeared. That has to be a warning sign that children aren’t safe here. I can tell by feeling this magic that it dates back before humans, and that it is really extremely powerful. I’m not quite sure you and I can harness it.”

 

For the next bit of information she was about to reveal, she knew she needed to soften the blow. She waited for him to be too distracted with inspecting that she playfully directed the magic to zoom towards him to knock him off his feet. “Stop being such a worrywart. I already asked for help,” she reassured him.

 

As Salazar fell over into a cushion of grass, his eyes widened. “Help? Rowena… this was only supposed to be us…” he managed to say as he brought himself back to his feet.

 

Then, Salazar directed another emerald sphere of energy to zoom towards her. Rowena felt her balance shift as she fell down, but instead of falling on the grass, she heard an “oof” beneath her small frame. It was just like Salazar to find another reason to let her fall into his arms.

 

She snuggled into his embrace, but in order to do so, she had to turn her head to the side so she could lie it against his chest. She loved being this close to him and listening to his heart beat through his robes. It was these intimate moments that she loved the best.

 

“I love you,” she whispered to him as she pecked his cheek. He returned the same sentiment as he kissed her forehead.

 

As they lay in the grass, the magic continued to thrum around them. Somehow, the magic sensed her frustration with Salazar, as the magic visibly wavered around them. She thought that her magical aura was affecting the area.

 

Rowena cleared her throat and pulled away from Salazar slightly. “Sal, there are a lot of magical children in the village that need a proper education, and even more muggleborns who have no idea how to harness their power. Besides, Godric and Helga have volunteered to help too.”

 

She felt her partner’s arms stiffen around her. “Rowena…” she heard him tell her in a warning tone, “You know how I feel about muggleborns _and_ Gryffindor.”

 

Rowena repositioned her head so that she was face to face with him. She flashed him a wide grin. “But I also know how you feel about me,” she countered. “I want everyone with magic to know how to handle their powers. It would make the world a safer place and ease tensions with the muggle world. I know how the muggles treated your family, and I would never forgive them for that. I am confident that with a little education to both worlds, we would have peace.”

 

She felt and heard him heave out a sigh. “Education is your solution to everything,” he told her, which made her giggle. She knew he loved hearing her laugh, as he had once claimed that her happiness brought him happiness. Her smile grew even wider when a smile made its way to his lips.

 

“I’ll relent on the muggleborn addition _for now_ , because I understand your reasoning, but why Gryffindor? The more time you spend with that buffoon, the more he falls in love with you,” he argued again.

 

“Godric is my _friend_ , and nothing more than that,” she emphasized.

 

“Godric is your _betrothed_ , and he is hopelessly in love with you,” he countered.

 

“Which means he’ll follow my wishes, just like you,” she cheekily finished the argument with a kiss on his cheek. “Besides, I already have it all planned out.”

 

“I _am_ hopelessly in love with you, you spoiled princess,” he commented as he kissed her cheek, “You’re lucky that I do, because that’s the only way you’re getting away with all of this.”

 

With a burst of confidence, Rowena continued to reveal more details about her plan. “Godric can teach dueling and how to take care of magical creatures. Helga can teach charms and herbology. I can teach divination and arithmancy. You can teach anything about the dark arts and transfiguration. I was thinking of enlisting your sister to help out with potions,” she rapidly spoke with a determined look on her face. “I already have a blueprint of the design of the castle, just like I dreamed it. The hallways will be filled with all these puzzles and surprises so that our students’ and the professors’ minds will always be at work.”

 

Her eyes searched for her lover’s face for a sign of approval. She knew he would agree whether he liked it or not, but she ached for his full support. His opinion was the only one that mattered to her.

 

When she looked up into his green eyes, she saw that they were filled with mirth. Then, Salazar uncharacteristically guffawed. His face beamed at her beatifically as his chest spasmed with laughter.

 

It was a rare moment when her lover let go like this, but she cherished it when he did. It was one of the few ways that he showed her his gentle side, for Salazar was a man of many rough edges.

 

“You have an answer for _everything_ , don’t you?” he managed to say after he caught his breath.

 

“You _love_ that I have an answer for everything,” she countered before she pulled his lips to hers.

 

Even though this wasn’t their first kiss, she could still feel the fireworks burst in her veins. She could feel a surge of power electrify her skin from where his hands roamed around her body. He knew to touch all her sensitive spots to make her moan in delight.

 

In addition to all their passionate kissing and groping, she could feel the magic in the air pulse and vibrate in response to their combined magical auras. It was as if the area was responding to their union.

 

When Rowena felt this, she slightly pulled away. She briefly saw a blue-green spark in the air, but it disappeared before she could investigate it further. Her skin still tingled from where the spark had appeared.

 

“You feel it too?” Salazar asked her. His gaze was no longer focused on her, but on an area behind her.

 

She nodded, and then shrugged. “I think the magic is just giving us a friendly greeting,” she hypothesized, “It didn’t feel malicious. It also combined the colors of our magical auras. It must recognize our magical signatures and wanted to say that it acknowledged us.”

 

Salazar sighed as he unwrapped his arms from around her so he could inspect the magic as well. “You think _everything_ is friendly. How can you tell the difference between a friendly greeting or a warning?” Then, he walked towards the cave and sent a snake-shaped Patronus through its opening.

 

Rowena rolled her eyes as she reluctantly stood up. “Well, wouldn’t we have been murdered by a mythical, fire-breathing dragon out to destroy all humankind by now?” she sarcastically responded in reference to the silly children’s tale about the cave.

 

When she saw that Salazar did not respond to her light-hearted jab at his fears, she knew she had to find a way to assuage his fears. She trudged over to where her lover stood, and massaged his shoulders. She could feel the tension emanating from his stiff frame. Then, Rowena stood on her tiptoes to nibble on Salazar’s ear and whisper, “Let’s give the grounds a proper blessing before we build our school, shall we?”

 

It would be the first time that they would ever do anything sensual where anyone could discover them. The thrill of almost being discovered made her heart race.

 

She let her hands wander and roam around the familiar muscular planes of his body. She could feel him relax at her soft embrace. She loved how well-sculpted Salazar was, but that he wasn’t too overly muscular like the other men that had vied for her affections. While she did appreciate his mental strength and control, she absolutely loved it when he let go.

 

Rowena cupped his stiff member with her palm as her fingers caressed his scrotum through his robes. She felt pleasure pulse through her veins when she heard him release a guttural moan.

 

The witch forcefully turned her partner around so that she could press her lips against his. Her wizard wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body flush against his. She loved feeling his tongue dance against hers, his teeth nibble at her lower lip, his callused hands caress her sensitive spots, and his center grind against her core. Rowena greedily whipped his robes wide open so her fingers could glide down to the waistband of his trousers.

 

She could feel her center dampen as she heard him hiss against her ear. Rowena returned her gaze back to his face as her fingers wrapped themselves around his erection. His stormy green eyes rolled shut as she gripped him just the way he liked it.

 

“Gods, Rowena,” was all he could muster before he let out a groan.

 

That was all the encouragement Rowena needed to get down on her knees before him. Salazar’s eyes widened at her when he yanked his trousers down to release his erect member to the open air. She immediately palmed him with both of her hands. He attempted to reach for his pants, but Rowena swatted his hands away.

 

“You’re a lady, Rowena. You don’t have to taste me,” he managed to say as he attempted to control his desire.

 

Rowena looked up at him before she licked his length, to which he let out a loud moan. “That’s not fair. You always get to taste me, but when I try to return the favor, you push me away,” she said as she breathed directly against him.

 

“Anyone could come here,” he breathlessly attempted to argue as she continued to press kisses against his very prominent erection.

 

“The only one I want coming is you,” she cheekily told him before she took his entire length in her mouth. Salazar let out a loud moan that echoed through the cave.

 

She looked up to see his handsome face twisted in delight, which prompted her to continue sucking him off. Her right hand wrapped around his thigh to steady him as he gyrated his hips against her face, as her left fingers continued to caress his scrotum.

 

“Ro…” he managed to say between moans, “You’re bloody amazing.”

 

Rowena continued to suck her lover off until she heard his loud grins that signaled that he was about to let go. She paused to take a peek up at Salazar, since she loved watching him orgasm. Rowena didn’t expect to be whisked upwards and pulled into his arms.

 

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and if that means building a school in the most dangerous part of the world, I will do it. I’d give the whole world to you if I could,” he whispered to her before he captured his lips in hers.

 

Then, Salazar gently nudged her to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist. Then he walked towards the wall of the cave to press her back against it. While he was doing this, he charmed her smallclothes to disappear, so that he was able to easily slip into her.

 

Rowena moaned at his sudden entrance. She relished in the feeling of having his full length inside of her, especially when he was pressed against that sweet spot that made her see fireworks behind her eyes.

 

They pushed against each other in a rhythm that both of them have memorized. It was not the fast pace of a fiery tryst built on lust, but the slow tempo of a strong love.

 

The magic of the cave wound itself around their magical auras. If Rowena and Salazar had been paying attention instead of caught up in one another, they would’ve realized that something else was at play. Once both Rowena and Salazar reached their climax and released, they slumped towards the cave floor in a peaceful slumber.

* * *

**July 1998**

 

Hermione slightly awakened from her slumber so she could snuggle against the warm body besides her. She was currently lying on her side. She pushed the back of her body into the comfortable warmth that was present behind her. When she realized she pressed her bum against a very prominent erection, she scrambled out of her duvet and grabbed her wand.

 

She was extremely grateful that this time, she still had her nightclothes on.

 

“What the bloody hell? You were under a very strong and reinforced _Incarcerous_!” she shrieked as she pointed her wand at the guest’s very-present nose. His

 

It wasn’t fair that a good, symmetrical nose was wasted on Lord Voldemort, who had been significantly nose-less in her time.

 

“Must you be so loud and uncouth in the morning? It’s highly unlady-like,” he muttered as he rubbed his eyes. Hermione noticed that there was no sign of her magic holding him hostage the night before.

 

“It may surprise you that the future is strikingly different from the past. Women are not required to brainless birds like they did in your time,” she informed him. “That is besides the point. I need to know how you got into my bed without a wand under a very strong _Incarcerous_.”

 

The young Tom Riddle heaved out a sigh as he sat up. He seemed unalarmed by her wand’s steady aim at his face. It really wasn’t fair that he had could be so effortlessly handsome, because she was sure she looked quite a fright. Her curls were a tangled mess after a night’s sleep.

 

“Our necklaces are glowing,” he pointed out as he reached for his glowing Slytherin locket. “You must’ve had the dream about Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw, too. Your nightgown rode up to expose those delicious lacy underthings you have on. You woke me up by rubbing your damp underwear against my erection.”

 

“I did not!” she argued, but she could still feel the residual dampness in her panties.

 

“You left a damp spot in the front of my clothes,” he said as he flipped her duvet over to reveal a small wet spot on the front of his pants.

 

“You could have had a wet dream,” she quipped.

 

“I’m not an adolescent boy. I can control myself,” he defended himself.

 

“Yet you still have a very strong erection,” she added as she gestured to the tent in his pants.

 

“I’m attracted to you. Your nightgown flatters your curves well and your nipples are protruding quite nicely through your dress,” he complimented her with a smirk as his gaze moved directly to her chest. In response, Hermione folded her arms over her chest.

 

“That doesn’t help. Now your cleavage is more prominent. You’ve got wonderful breasts,” he told her with a wide grin.

 

Hermione could not help but feel her heart lurch when he smiled. Why did Tom Riddle have to be so attractive? It would be much easier if he was in his Lord Voldemort form. Then she cringed at the thought. She did not know which would be easier. She would just rather not experience this moment at all.

 

“Ugh, stop being so distracting,” she huffed as she rubbed her head to soothe her headache. “You were under a very strong _Incarcerous_ and now you’re miraculously in my bed. I repeat, what did you do?”

 

He heaved out a sigh and told her in a sing-song voice, “I already told you. It’s our necklaces. They were made by Salazar Slytherin. They are magically linked, which is why when we both go to sleep, we end up in these compromising positions.”

 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she challenged him as she brought up her wand to defend herself.

 

“The templates and design of our necklaces are in Slytherin’s Chamber. That’s where I found them when I was still attending Hogwarts. When I first read through Salazar Slytherin’s documents, I did not think a necklace that he made for his beloved was as important as the dark spells he’d invented,” he explained in a matter-of-fact voice.

 

It did sound like he was telling the truth. His reasoning of preferring dark spells over charmed objects for a loved one seemed like it was something the future Dark Lord would think.

 

Hermione needed time to mull this over. This would also mean that Tom Riddle was correct about her family not being entirely muggle, especially if this necklace was placed on her. She could no longer deny the powers of her necklace.

 

Tom Riddle was currently a very real presence in her life, which meant her whole life before was a lie. If Tom Riddle (she is now refusing to call him Lord Voldemort due to the presence of his nose) was the heir of Slytherin, then that would mean she was somehow tied to Rowena Ravenclaw. It did not make sense, because of what she knew from _Hogwarts: A History_ , the Ravenclaw line died with Helena Ravenclaw.

 

Something was not right. This _whole situation_ was not right.

 

“If you’re done thinking it over, we’ve got to break out of here to get some more information,” his smooth baritone interrupted her thoughts.

 

“This is a lot of information you’re getting me to process. It just doesn’t make any sense…” her voice trailed off as she gazed at her reflection in the floor-length mirror. Thankfully, this mirror was not enchanted. Through the mirror, she could see that both the pendants on their necklaces beamed a fluorescent green.

 

Tom Riddle was right. There was no point in sitting here and waiting for McGonagall to fix the problem. The problem of her heritage would have to wait. They needed to find a way to get Tom Riddle back to his correct time.

 

McGonagall did not have access the Chamber of Secrets, because one needed to be a Parselmouth. Hermione was not going to rope Harry into this, for Harry has had enough stress in his life. Harry would also go ballistic if he saw the young Tom Riddle alive and well. The only available Parselmouth would be the Dark Lord himself.

 

Hermione pivoted around to face Tom Riddle. She was thankful to see that his erection had died down. He smirked when he noticed that her eyes trailed to his legs. She noticed this, and quickly looked down at the floor.

 

“You’re right,” she confessed. His chest puffed with pride to hear her say those words. The young man opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione interrupted him, “We will go to Slytherin’s Chamber, but we have to have a solid, foolproof plan. Some people we encounter along the way might recognize you.”

 

He flashed her one of his winning smiles. It made her heart beat a little bit faster.

 

“Give me your wand. I’ll be able to break down McGonagall’s wards before you could even blink,” he commanded her.

 

Hermione scoffed. “I’ll have you know, Mr Riddle, I am told that I am the brightest witch of my generation. _I_ will be in control of _my_ wand, thank you very much,” she informed him with the snootiest voice she could muster. “We will go to Slytherin’s Chambers on my terms _only_.”

 

Surprisingly, Tom Riddle didn’t even put up a fight. “As you wish, Ms Granger,” he conceded as he amped up his ‘perfect gentleman’ persona. Hermione fought the urge to smother his handsome face with one of her pillows.

 

No, they needed to work together. She couldn’t just let him keep getting to her.

 

She swallowed her resolve and marched her away to him. Then, she held out her hand, the one not holding the wand, towards him for a handshake. “Let’s make a deal. We will work together to get you back to the year…”

 

“1945,” he provided her with the information.

 

“We’ll get you back to 1945, but you have to promise that you won’t purposely antagonize me, hurt me, or hurt anyone you encounter in this time,” the brunette proposed.

 

In response to her proposal, Tom Riddle pouted. “Antagonizing you brings me the most joy I have ever had in my entire life,” he argued.

 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”

 

“You’re adorable when you’re upset, like a disgruntled kitten,” he told her with a cheeky grin.

 

She growled as she raised her hand to slap him. He quickly grabbed her hand in his to halt her slap in its tracks. She was surprised to feel how warm and welcoming his hand felt wrapped around hers.

 

“Fine. I promise that I won’t hurt you or anyone I encounter in this time,” he conceded as he gave her hand a firm shake.

 

* * *

 

It was a rare morning when Ronald Weasley would wake up in a good mood.

 

He was never a morning person, but he just knew it would be a good morning. The birds were chirping. The sun was barely making its way to the sky, but he had so much positive energy pulsing through his veins.

 

After the eye-opening conversation he had with Harry, Ron knew that this would be the day he would woo Hermione back into his arms.

 

Ron whistled a merry tune as he waltzed into the adjoining bathroom to the dorm he shared with Harry. He stripped himself of his pajamas and hopped into the shower. As he was rinsing his body, he heard a faint whisper.

 

_“Gryffindor… Gryffindor…”_

 

The redhead paused from scrubbing himself. He’d showered in Gryffindor Tower all his life, but he’d never heard any whispers before. Then again, peculiar things occurred in Hogwarts all the time. Ron just shrugged and continued to scrub the dirt away.

 

As always, when one is in the shower, thoughts drift to topics one does not usually think of. 

 

Now that he thought about it, was Hogwarts the type of place to send children for their education? It seemed like it could be a dangerous place situated next to the Black Lake with a giant squid, and a Forbidden Forest filled with all types of creatures. It doesn’t exactly scream child-friendly.

 

Well, his parents and all his family before him survived. He barely survived because of Lord Voldemort, but he was still alive and breathing. The castle was beat up quite a bit during the Battle of Hogwarts, but it was nothing they couldn’t fix. Even this bathroom had some cracks and holes in the stonework.

 

Just as Ron shut off the water, he heard the whispers louder and clearer.

 

_“Gryffindor... Gryffindor... you and your friends started a war.”_

 

“Hmm... must have water in my ear,” the redhead muttered to himself as he stuck his finger in his ear to clean it out.

 

If he had been paying more attention, he’d realize that the walls of Hogwarts were not quite what they seem. He would have noticed the castle wall moving on its own accord and repairing itself.


End file.
